What I think today about the "next word" in the Dictionary.

Tag Archives: apology

I know it’s just a brief whiz-by of sweetness, but it keeps me from tasting any of that aspirin flavor that sticks in the back of your throat and makes you cough.

It’s just damned considerate.

This crossed my mind about twenty years ago, but I didn’t really do anything about it until last year. (Sometimes it takes nineteen years to work up the gumption to follow through on one of your own pieces of brilliance.)

But twenty years ago, I thought to myself, the problem with human relationships is that they aren’t candy-coated.

We walk around with some adult, grown-up notion that things should be nasty, and the more bitter they are the better it is–because we’ll end up with such a great, complaining story.

It wasn’t until last year that I realized that this applied to me. I was waiting for somebody else to put it into practice. But then I sat down one afternoon and realized that I am sometimes hard to swallow:

I can be bitter

I can be nasty

I can be sour.

And the truth of the matter is, my responsibilities require that I use candor and truthfulness to get the job done. After all, can there be anything worse than a writer who’s a liar–which may force him to write more lies later?

Yet there are human ingredients of sweetness that can be added to truth, so that we can feel love as we embrace reality.

May we never lose kindness.

May we never forget the power of being gentle.

May we always take into consideration a sense of humor.

And certainly, may our daily lives be blessed by the power of apology and the simplicity of a thank you.

Yes, that was the advice given to me by one of the web wizards instructing me in how to increase my presence on social media.

I was supposed to go into chat rooms and converse with those individuals who had accumulated in various clumps based upon their interest level in a particular topic.

I saw no reason to argue with the expert advice, so I found a couple of chat rooms that pertained to my particular writing style, musical interest and overall vision of life’s mission.

I started out slow–just tossed off a couple of ideas.

Suddenly I was attacked. I apparently had said something with an incorrect inflection which came through my writing as offensive.

So I apologized.

My apology was not accepted because it read insincere. I tried to explain my level of sincerity.Then the people in the chat room thought I was being pompous and self-righteous. Pleading with them that I was not pompous or self-righteous, but to the contrary, had set my direction in life to be at odds with such ridiculous profiles, they then wanted to know what I meant by “ridiculous.”

One person mentioned that without some sort of organization, how could anything be achieved?

Whatever way I turned, I ran into somebody who was either offended or was bound and determined to try to offend me.

Attempting to be up to date with the times, I continued for a few days in various chat rooms, pursuing some means of communal relationship.

It was utterly disastrous.

So I was gradually able to back my way out of the conversation and eventually they continued railing each other, unaware that I was gone.

I guess the premise would have to be that if you have enough time on your hands to be in a chat room, you probably have too much time on your hands.

It is the action demanded of a criminal in a court case when a guilty plea has been accepted and it becomes his or her responsibility to admit to all of the facets and details of the crime.

Even though we demand this from the more sinister members of our society, we do not require it of the common man or woman.

The most popular rendition of denying one’s previous deeds is the apology. I think we all would agree that an apology from a murderer in a courtroom would not only be insufficient, but insulting. And the lack of requiring that people avow their involvement–good or bad–in a situation gives enough wiggle room that we are never quite certain of what is true and what is false.

When truth becomes a bouncing ball, it’s not safe for anyone to play.

Very recently, I have become convinced of the intelligence of coming clean. It’s a three-step process:

I come to myself.

I realize I have done or am doing something unfruitful, perhaps even wrong.

I come to the facts.

I decide what would be an accurate assessment of my situation and how to phrase it in such a way that I could unburden my conscience and clarify my need for repentance.

I come to others.

It simply is not enough for us to be aware of our own frailties. We gain power and position when those around us know we can be trusted because they have heard us be honest about uncomfortable matters.

It is certainly much more popular to disavow–to distance oneself from causes or endeavors that have proven to be detrimental. But the ability to avow one’s involvement, positive or negative, is the trigger for our trust of those we love or those we wish to lead us.

It’s true, you know. There are some things in life that cannot be viewed, read, perused, discussed, debated or downloaded.

Affection is one of them.

In a climate where “lukewarm” has begun to feel “heated,” we lack such closeness and intimacy that it has caused us to become defensive with one another because we privately feel cheated of the tenderness we need to satisfy our souls, yet at the same time we push away personal overtures from those who try to get too close too quickly.

A lady warned me the other day, saying, “Watch out! I’m a hugger.”

I do remember attending a rock concert many years ago where complete strangers–thousands of them–came up to each other, hugging in groups of five and ten without explanation or apology. Yet to promote such an idea in our day and age would be cynically mocked as a “hippie philosophy,” a throw-back to olden times or impractical due to the spread of disease.

This culminated for me when I saw churches offering hand sanitizer to folks after they had the “passing of the peace.” I wish I had a profanity to express how upsetting that is to me. And please, spare me the explanation on why it is needed. I am fed up with the notion of what is needful and anxious for the pursuit of what is helpful.

I need affection.

I need to be affectionate.

Now, it doesn’t have to always be demonstrative, but it does have to be spontaneous and real. It can be reaching across a table and cutting up the banana of a friend who is making you coffee, or coring an apple for another friend so she doesn’t have to deal with stems and seeds.

When you lose affection in a society, you promote the idea of isolation. Once humans are isolated, there’s only one thing that takes hold–survival.

Is it possible that in the next decade we will begin to treat each other–all the time–like we do when we’re in a traffic jam?

Abject: adj. 1.{of a situation or condition} extremely bad, unpleasant and degrading: abject poverty; {of an unhappy state of mind} experienced to the maximum degree: abject misery2. {of a person or their behavior} completel without pride or dignity, self-abasing: an abject apology

I guess RE Ject is the father of the mix, with OB Ject being the mother, creating the juvenile delinquent of AB Ject.

Yes, it is very important to remember that rejecting things sets in motion sensations which are very difficult to retrieve through a simple apology or by sending a dozen roses. I think we have more success in ignoring human beings than in rejecting them–but there are always people who love to start a good war by inviting rejection into the conflict.

Then someone comes along an object. I don’t know if there is anything more useless than an objection to a rejection. I mean, after all–you’re in a defensive position, and the person or persons who have already decided to put you on the crap list are not going to be swayed by either your reasoning or your pleading.

This further stirs the pot.

So after reject has brought about an object, which is dejected (Wow! another family member!) you end up with an abject situation–which is completely without redemption.

Matter of fact, I find it very difficult to believe in any way, shape or form that God has rejected me simply because I’m a goofball. If I felt rejected by the Divine Nature, I would certainly have an objection to Him referring to Himself as Love.

He may disapprove. He may think that I am crazy or loony. But rejection would not be a good thing unless you are prepared for an objection which might lead to dejection–and then force me into abject stupidity.

That Ject family–you gotta watch out when they move in next door. The neighborhood goes to pot and the real estate values plummet.